


The Mishap

by MiladyPheonix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Happy Ending, Hurt John Watson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:25:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17611937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyPheonix/pseuds/MiladyPheonix
Summary: WereLock and John have a mishap during a change. WereLock is a Drama queen.





	The Mishap

**Author's Note:**

> This wrote itself last night while I was trying to sleep and reminded me I hadn't written it while I was on my way home from work. Way angstier than my usual work but Sherlock was very insistent.

In the throes of his change Sherlock forgot and bit down hard but a knot of warped flesh against his tongue sent him reeling backwards away from his prey, His Prey, he gave an incoherent howl and swung around but the flesh moved to block the door and stood panting in pain but stalwartly right in the way. He could not flee without further harm to the flesh and that was unconscionable. 

Turning away from the sweet smell of the blood Sherlock let out a whining growl as the flesh approached him carefully, never, the flesh... he... his own one was never careful with Sherlock when he was changed they would rough house and play as he wound down from transforming and walk the dark streets at midnight as the moon's pull sailed across the sky. His own stabilised his beast but now his own bled from Sherlock’s very teeth. He would kill anyone who touched his own, John! His John and he had harmed his own John!

The whining wavered but the anguished howl in his throat was soothed by a warm human hand, it smelled of sweet flesh and blood, John! Sherlock moved by crawling on his belly to stay small as he pulled the big first aid kit from under John’s old bed. The flesh would heal itself, he froze... John, John would need the kit so he lay it next to John and then himself in the far corner on an old mattress, the stench of antiseptic still burned his nose but he deserved it as he watched John clean and cover the puncture wounds, once the kit was closed Sherlock crawled back to his mate, rolled onto his back and bared his throat. The hand on his chest made him realise he was whimpering in staccato bursts of panicked breath, as a human he would have needed John right now but he refused to permit his beast the solace so shaking off the hand that buried itself in his fur he stood to drag the blanket off the bed over John and curled up on the beast’s mattress in the corner.

John moved again, he was shaking like Sherlock would be too if he were human and not a savage thing that should be shot. John was rummaging under the bed, maybe John would shoot Sherlock so he closed his eyes and accepted his fate. A cool weight descended on his tense frame, the weighted blanket prototype he had made, John lay it over him and carefully climbed under it with him! No! But he couldn’t shy away or he would jostle his John who lay on his deep chest and again the warm human hand lay on his fur, buried in the ruff of his neck. Sherlock slowly calmed and astonishingly John actually slept on the huge black wolf that had just mauled him.

Sherlock watched John sleep until the change swept him under. He woke with John still on his chest but now covered in thick black fur, as was just about everything else too because Sherlock shed when he changed. Now with human fingers he checked the bandages on his husband’s already scared shoulder and closed his eyes against the wave of pain. The change always heightened emotions so he recalled the anguish of last night and worse the sweet burst of John’s blood. He didn’t fear John would change too as that was just superstitious nonsense but he knew John would be in pain so he carefully lifted his love to get him into a proper bed.

John started at his touch and Sherlock flinched though the chiding “You bit me you great big git” had hurt more. So pulling John onto the bed he lay himself wolf-style, belly and throat bared beside his lover and a human's anguish brought tears to his eyes. John kissed the exposed throat then worried some exposed skin between his teeth in the expected reprimand before kissing tears and red eyes. “You stopped love, you had a bit of a chomp but you let go at once. It’s not even that deep” He lay his injured shoulder on Sherlock’s chest and allowed his distressed husband to coddle him which wasn’t his favourite thing but the pack would cluster around an injured member because warmth helped them heal. John didn’t heal like Sherlock’s beast but a few days of cuddling and fussing from Sherlock would soon see them both right.


End file.
